


Cuddles (Jamilton)

by Candlestick101



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, College AU, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, It got hella angsty like halfway through oof, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Modern AU, One Shot, Sick Character, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-14
Packaged: 2019-09-16 02:34:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16945344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Candlestick101/pseuds/Candlestick101
Summary: A modern/college AU, in which Thomas gets sick and his roommate Alexander is there to help comfort him.





	Cuddles (Jamilton)

Alexander angrily typed away on his laptop. Out of all the people in college he was attending, out of _all_ the people, he ended up having Thomas Jefferson as his roommate. At first, it didn't seem too bad. That was until they started talking...

Next thing Alexander knew, the pair was arguing non-stop. About everything and nothing. Though, Alexander was the type to enjoy having a debate, dealing with Thomas as his roommate was not something he would be willing to do for a whole other semester. If he could, he would have Thomas switched to a different room, but his previous requests were met with indifference.

Clik- clak, clik-clak, clik-clak, clik-clak, clik-

He continued typing at a furious pace when Thomas walked in from one of his afternoon classes.

This was a prime debate time. They’d usually argue at this time until they ended up making Alexander late for his next class. Alexander had to admit, he didn’t mind. He is one to debate. Strangely enough, there was a brief moment of silence. Thomas walked right past Alexander without a single word. All that could be heard was the sound of Alexander's typing.

Clik- clak, clik-clak–

“How come you look like shit?” Alexander spat out in a vain attempt to break the awkward silence that hovered over the two. “...Not that you don't always do. Just.. you're looking extra shitty today.”

Thomas continued walking- no, limping towards his bed and laid down on his side. Facing away from Alexander. Without a glare, snarl, or any sort of response. Now, it isn't common for Thomas to completely ignore a comment like that. Something had to be wrong…

Alexander nervously bit his bottom lip, an old habit of his. Of course, he doesn't care about Thomas, right? Right. That's what he told himself. Deep down, there's no denying the fact that he sort of did care about Thomas. A little more than he should. Alexander kept his eyes on Thomas’s body as he lay limp on the bed.

It was a very strange sight. Thomas had both arms wrapped around his stomach and his long legs were pulled up to his chest. In this position he looked so small, so weak, so fragile that is was almost painful to watch. Painful and distracting, Alexander told himself, shaking his head with a sigh. He should be working, not worrying about his enemy. Right. Enemy. That’s what Thomas is. All this worrying was ridiculous.

Alexander placed his fingers back on the keyboard and was just about to start typing again. But then came a small, pathetic whimper. One that threw Alexander off the edge. He immediately shut his laptop, placing it down on his bed and got up to rush to Thomas’s side. He loomed over him, getting a much better view. Thomas’s face was deathly pale. His eyes were clenched shut and, if he looked closely, he could see the tears as they slowly spilled out. He, too, was biting down hard against his bottom lip.

“Thomas? Thomas.. are you okay?” he asked, albeit a lot more worried sounding than he would like to have sounded. But Thomas was obviously in a lot of pain, it would be heartless for Alexander not to care at all.

Despite receiving no response, Alexander persisted. This time, shaking his shoulder. “Thomas, what happened to you??”

Thomas groaned a little this time and shifted uncomfortably on the bed. “Piss off, Hamilton,” he rasped out, clenching his eyes shut even tighter. “I'm just sick,” Thomas mumbled, swatting Alexander's hand off in the process. And with that, he forced himself upright and took his laptop from under the pillow. He opened it up and started typing. Alexander stayed by the bedside, looking over Thomas’ shoulder to see what he was working on. The essay for debate class. The one he should be working on, too.

Instead of walking off to do that, Alexander felt frozen in place. Something in the back of his mind told him to stay. He _had_ to help Thomas. And now he found himself running his mouth. “Thomas, you shouldn't be working. You're sick. You need some rest or else you won't get better.”

Thomas shot Alexander an annoyed glare. “Taking self-care lessons from the likes of you? Pfft. I don't think so," Thomas retorted. “Now, I'm sick and I don't want to deal with your bullshit today. Go work on your own essay.”

Alexander shot an equally as irritated glare, groaning loudly. “I'm trying to help you, asshole!” he said, frustrated. “Why don't you just fucking listen to me, for just once?!”

In a huff, Thomas shut his laptop and turned to face Alexander. “How about you shut the fuck up? I'm trying to work and can't do that now with a fucking headache” he said, rubbing his forehead and glaring at Alexander. “Go bother someone else.”

Alexander sighed. He wasn't going to give up that easily. “Well, I already got you off your laptop, you might as well give up now. Let me help you.”

Thomas shifted uncomfortably on his bed, once more. He told himself he didn't want Alexander's help in any way or form, but deep down he really did. “Help how?” he inquired, slightly raising a single eyebrow.

Alexander visibly perked up. A smile spread across his face. In all honesty, he shouldn't be as happy as he was about helping Thomas, considering they're enemies. But who gives a fuck? “I could make you some hot soup! I know a recipe!” He exclaimed. “And I could run by the CVS and get you something if things get worse. And I’ll-”

“Alright, alright. That’s enough, Hamilton," Jefferson said, with a sigh, not exactly thrilled by the fact that his least favorite person was taking care of him. "You don't need to get so excited."

*************

About an hour passed by of the pair making small talk and Alexander eventually going into the kitchen to make the soup he had promised. Thomas had fallen asleep sometime during the process, swaddled in a mound of the fluffiest blankets the pair owned. He looked strangely peaceful. Usually, when Alexander saw the taller man, they were in some sort of a heated debate. But now, the fierce Virginian looked so small. Cute, almost.

“Thomas,” Alexander called out, leaning on the door frame. “Thomas, wake up. I have your soup.”

He watched as Thomas shifted in the bed, groaning softly. He slowly peeled his eyes open and looked at Alexander. “..Hm?”

Alexander offered Thomas a small smile and walked over to the bedside. Walking carefully slow, to make sure that the soup didn’t spill. “I have your soup,” he repeated, gesturing the bowl towards Thomas. “It’s hot, so be careful.”

Thomas couldn’t help but smile back, reaching out his hands for the bowl. He rasped out a small, "Thanks."

“No problem.”

“Yeah.”

A few moments passed by. Alexander stared down at his hands, feeling his face heat up. He wasn’t exactly sure if he should just leave or stay to see if he would be needed later on. He felt as though he was invading Thomas’ privacy though, by watching him eat. The air felt so suffocatingly awkward.

“Um. sh-should I leave?”

“No.”

....

Well, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting.

Alexander let out a silent sigh and looked around the room for… something to do. In all honesty, he didn’t know exactly what he was looking for, he just wanted something to distract him from the awkwardness of the whole situation.

“You can just sit down on the bed if you want,” Thomas mumbled as he shoved a spoonful of hot soup into his mouth.

Alexander smiled at Thomas’ uncharacteristic behavior and immediately sat down on the edge of the bed. “Are you sure that you don’t mind? If you weren’t sick, I’m sure you would give me Hell for being this close to you.”

Thomas snorted a short laugh and rolled his eyes. Making Alexander’s heart skip a beat. That was the Thomas he knew.

“I would give you _more_ than Hell if you got this close to me.”

  
Alexander smiled and little wider and shifted a little, facing more towards Thomas. “Well,” he began, “I don’t think you do mind when I get close to you. If I’m being honest, we get really close. A lot. All the time.”

“What do you mean?” Thomas asked, raising a single eyebrow.

Alexander felt the familiar rush of excitement. He took a quick second to articulate his words, to make sure he used his one chance to convey his words in the most effective way possible. “I mean, whenever we debate. We start yelling at each other, y’know and then you get closer to me and I get closer to you. Don’t tell me I’m the only person who notices this. We’re always getting close. Just not like this,” he said, gesturing between the two of them.

Thomas stared down at his soup, trying to come up with something to say. “I mean… you’re not wrong,” he stated, simply.

Alexander squeaked with joy, flailing his hands around with excitement. “Did you just agree with me?!” He squeaked. The smile on his face was _priceless_. “Y-you just agreed with me. Holy shit!"

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Thomas mumbled, shifting around under all the blankets. “Just don’t get used to it.”

Alexander laid down on the bed, feeling much more comfortable around Thomas now than a few minutes ago. “You know what, I hate you a little less now.”

“Well I hate you more,” Thomas mumbled.

  
Alexander snorted and rolled his eyes. “Then how come you’re letting me lay down next to you?”  
  
“I- Because… you're not being a dick for once,” he responded.

Alexander scoffed. “I’m not the dick here. I mean, of course, I am a dick, but you’re more of a dick than me,” he said.

Thomas clenched his eyes shut, as he felt a sudden pain strike his abdomen. He tried and failed, to suppress a pained groan. He curled up on himself and wrapped his arms tight around his waist, in an attempt to ease the pain, but it persisted. All this raised even more concern for Alexander.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked, staring at Thomas. Saying he was worried would be an understatement. “M-maybe eating wasn’t such a good idea. I could drive you to the hospital. They have the proper equipment, I know. Do you want me to take you..?”

Thomas slowly opened up his eyes, his vision beyond blurry. “No, Hamilton. I’ll be fine,” he mumbled before shutting his eyes once again. “Are you sure you weren’t trying to poison me with the soup?” He joked. “This was all some elaborate plan to get rid of me.”

Alexander shook his head, no. "I hate you, but not that much,” he said with a shy smile, appreciating the humor. “The recipe was, um, my mother’s anyways..”

“Isn’t she dead?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

….

“I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m sorry,” Thomas whispered.

“Thomas Jefferson apologizing. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Thomas shifted around in the blankets and reached his hand out to Alex’s shoulder. “Hey, I’m really sorry, Hamil- Alexander. I’m sorry, Alexander. That was insensitive.”

“Since when do you fucking care about being insensitive?” Alexander snapped, scooting away from Thomas.

“I wasn’t trying to be insensitive, you twat,” Thomas hissed. Annoyed by the fact that the one time he was actually nice to Alexander, he slips up and ruins everything. “It just slipped out! Stop being so butthurt about it!”

Alexander crawled off the bed, in a fit of rage. He was glaring daggers at Thomas, something the Virginian was used to by now, but this time it was different. Alexander had reached a whole other level of angry that Thomas hadn’t even seen yet. Alex’s entire body was tensed up. He was _shaking_. That’s when Thomas realized what was wrong, he didn’t just piss Alexander off, Alexander was fucking tearing up.

“ _Butthurt?!_ You think I’m butthurt about this?! I have perfectly good fucking reasons to be fucking angry!” He shouted. His words piercing the air around them. “My mother fucking died. In front of me. Do you _fucking_ know how that shit feels?! To see one of the _few_ people that you hold closest to your heart die. In front of you. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye, I was too busy choking on my own damn tears and snot!! She died just like that!” Alexander screamed, pointing at Thomas “L-l-like that…”

Alexander stood there pointing at Thomas for the longest while as hot tears streamed down his face. “Like that…,” he repeated, noticeable sadder. “C-curled up on herself," he practically whispered, "Sick and cold… She… she didn’t get it easy. Things were slow. And painful. She had to watch herself die, she had to watch her son, as he was dying. But I.. I survived. I had the misfortune to.”

“Alexander, I didn’t know... I-”

“Do you know why I even bothered to help you..?”

“Was it because of your mom..?”

Alexander took a shaky breath and shook his head. He didn’t know how to feel. He head felt overwhelmed with feelings of guilt, grief, anger, frustration, all of it. It hurt. “Yea,” he whispered, clenching his eyes shut and wiping the tears from his face. He felt so fucking stupid for crying in front of Thomas, of all people. So fucking stupid for not being about to keep his mouth shut for once. So fucking stupid for letting his mom die right in front of him!

“Well, I don’t plan on dying,” Thomas said with a small smile. Sure it was a fake smile, but Thomas was trying. Comforting people wasn’t exactly his forte.

Alexander looked back at Thomas with his teary eyes. “You better not, dickhead.”

“I won’t. I promise I won’t. In fact,” he said, “I ain’t ever dying. You’re gonna have to deal with me for the rest of your miserable life.”

  
Alexander smiled a little and crawled back onto the bed. He laid down, feeling himself relax a little. “I hate you, you know that right?”

“Yet, you’re the one who crawled onto my bed, uninvited.”

“Didn’t you say something about giving me Hell for it?” Alexander asked, raising a single eyebrow and wrapping his arms around himself. A tad bit cold.

Thomas thought about it for a while before giving a simple shrug. “I did. But I’ll let it slide this time,” he mumbled. “Are you cold?”

“I’m still not used to these winters. It’s cold as fuck, inside and outside.”

“Y’know, I wouldn’t mind sharing one of the dozens of blankets I have on. You really should’ve saved one for yourself, dumbass.”

Alexander huffed and scooted his dumbass closer to Thomas. To his surprise, Thomas wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer, until his chest was only inches away from the Virginian’s. Alexander looked up at Thomas, wide-eyed. He tried to come up with something snarky to say, to try to mask how flustered he actually was but Thomas beat him to it.

“Thomas Jefferson’s the last person you’d expect to be a cuddler, huh, Alex? Just, don’t get used to it.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you SO SO much for reading. Have a nice day!


End file.
